


Letters to Subaru

by misura



Category: Tokyo Babylon, X/1999
Genre: Crack, Epistolary, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-10-21
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-28 14:10:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Being haunted by one's victims was, of course, one of the risks of his profession.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The handwriting was rather uneven - inelegant, even, if one was inclined to be harsh or critical, both of which Seishirou prided himself on being, in addition to a whole range of other adjectives. The words reflected this, to some degree, reading, quite simply:

 _help!_

And this was the first letter Seishirou wrote to Subaru - on a napkin, after dinner in a restaurant that Subaru would have considered very expensive and Seishirou merely considered overpriced, given that the food had not been able to distract him from his present worries. It was, he later reflected idly, a pity high prices did not guarantee high standards or quality; one's last meal ought to be something memorable or at the very least an occasion where one had gotten one's money's worth; to be cheated on one's last evening in life seemed pitiful.

Of course, he further considered, searching his pockets for something to wipe his hands with, the man's entire existence could be called pitiful; seen in that light, the location of his last meal seemed a perfect fit.

(Staring at the napkin he'd wiped his hands with, he realized he wouldn't need to worry about what Subaru might think of his hand-writing after all. Although he toyed briefly with the notion of delivering the napkin anyway - the red blood had not unduly blotted out the black ink - in the end, it seemed wiser not to. Subaru would likely misunderstand, mistaking the blood for Seishirou's or some such thing and jumping to entirely the wrong conclusion.)

 

The thing was, though, that Seishirou did need Subaru's help. It was not a situation Seishirou particularly enjoyed, although he had the sneaking suspicion he'd enjoy what would happen _after_ Subaru had helped him even less. A debt was a serious thing, after all.

Owing Subaru his sanity would, Seishirou feared, considerably cramp his style.

Inasfar as he'd still possess any style to be cramped at that point.

A quick survey of his closet informed him the majority of his shirts had not been approved of.

"Hokuto-chan ... "

"Don't you 'Hokuto-chan' me, Sei-chan!"

Being haunted by one's victims was, of course, one of the risks of his profession. It had never bothered him much, given that vengeful ghosts were easy enough to get rid of, if one knew what one was doing. The ghosts generally did not.

"You did not seem to disapprove of my wardrobe before."

 _Before I killed you_ seemed impolite, somehow - _while you were alive_ even more so. Besides, what did 'being alive' truly mean?

"That was when I thought you were tall, dark and handsome and a perfect match for Subaru-kun."

She'd not lived with him before - now, while 'dead', she was there all the time, from when he woke up to when he went to bed. She visited his dreams, occasionally.

If she'd still been alive, he'd have worried, but not unduly, telling himself he could always simply kill her to put a stop to things. As things were ...

"What changed?" A dark-blue shirt seemed mostly unruffled. He reached for it cautiously.

"I realized you're not that tall, actually. Just taller than Subaru-kun."

"He's been growing." He successfully retrieved the shirt and looked around for some pants.

"You still think he's cute though, don't you? I can tell."

"Well, he _is_ your twin." Flattery never hurt, Seishirou thought.

Unless it resulted in getting slapped on the shoulder you'd bruised the evening before.

"Oh-ho-ho. You're such a smooth talker, Sei-chan."

If only. He spotted a pair of pants that looked like it had been left alone. "Ahem."

"If you're this shy with Subaru-kun, you're never going to get anywhere, you know."

He'd killed people for far less. Well, not really - he didn't kill people for getting on his nerves, but that was simply a matter of style and not wanting to have to change clothes three times a day. (Laundry had never been his favorite chore.) He did glower at people in a way that made them think he might kill them though - and it was the thought that counted, surely?

"You are not Subaru-kun."

"Hmph. Can I pick out some new shirts for you later?"

 

 _My dear Subaru-kun,_

 _your sister thinks I should wear lighter tones. I disagree with her. Would you be so kind as to back me up on this? In return, I will_ Seishirou frowned, considering.

The number of things he could offer Subaru at this point was fairly limited. The number of things he might offer that Subaru might actually accept was so small as to be zero.

He'd have to think of something special - something he wouldn't normally consider offering to Subaru. Something Subaru didn't even realize yet he wanted, but which he would want the moment Seishirou offered it to him.

 _In return_ Seishirou wrote, carefully forming the words _I will buy you icecream._

He signed it 'Seishirou', stuck it in the pocket of his coat and promptly forgot all about it when Hokuto dragged him to the men's lingerie section.

(Ghosts were, of course, not supposed to be able to do things like that to him; he was _powerful_ , darn it, and not to be trifled with, let alone be informed his taste in underwear was 'unadventurous' and 'conservative' and just _where_ had Hokuto gotten the experience to judge things like that, anyway?)

(The obvious answer, when it occured to him gave him a nosebleed and the urge to sit down and take a few deep breaths.)

 

 _Dear Subaru-kun, please tell me your sister never bought you any underwear, and please stop making me think about the topic of what kind of underwear you might be wearing - it's very distracting._

And this letter Seishirou never sent because he only composed it in his mind.

 

The first truth of the matter was this: he had not recognized her.

She had dressed like Subaru, addressed him as Subaru would have addressed him ... fooled him in a way Subaru would never have been able to. Her power was not like his or Subaru's; it was a subtle, almost hidden one, used so sparingly as to go unnoticed.

The second truth of the matter was this: he had not intended to kill.

In hindsight, it sounded foolish, but in the there and then, he had been convinced that it had been Subaru facing him, and he had been convinced that he would never be able to kill Subaru - on the exact why of this, he was somewhat fuzzy, but he had been (and still was) quite certain of it nonetheless.

He'd been weary of it though; he disliked certainties based on nothings. He'd sought to get an answer, and just like that, he'd ended someone's life. Pointlessly.

The third truth of the matter was this: he regretted it.

In the present, he regretted it almost every moment of every day, and he was reasonably sure that he would continue to do so for the rest of his life.

Assuming, that was, that he couldn't find some way to get rid of her ghost.

Which was where Subaru came in.

 

 _Dear Subaru_ Seishirou wrote in his best hand-writing, which was (if he did say so himself) quite elegant and sure to make Subaru that much more likely to be amenable to Seishirou's ... words. (It wasn't a request, really; surely, with her being his sister and all, Subaru would be quite eager to let her find ahem peace and quiet and all that. That such an action would also grant peace and quiet to Seishirou (if in a slightly different way) was merely a coincidence.)

 _Your sister, whom I killed because I thought she was you_ Grammatically correct but, Seishirou decided with a frown, rather inelegantly phrased.

 _Your sister, whom I killed by mistake_ was hardly better when it came to elegance. On top of that, Seishirou resented the implication that he was capable of making mistakes. Regardless of it being the truth, it was not something he particularly wished to make known - to Subaru or to anyone else.

 _Your sister's ghost is haunting my apartment._ There, that was better. Clear, to the point and with no mention of anything untowards having happened. _Would you be so kind as to come and exorcise her?_

After a moment's consideration, Seishirou added: _I am sure she would appreciate it greatly if you were to do this for her_ just to take away any doubts there might be as to whom Subaru would be doing a favor in coming by and doing his job.

The icecream, he'd decided, had been a bad idea. Seishirou didn't need to complicate their relationship by bringing things like icecream into it.

 _Perhaps we could meet somewhere afterwards._ It had been a while since he'd 'accidentally' run into Subaru; he might as well kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.

The notion of getting to see Subaru again in person and speak with him, perhaps even touch him a little was not an unwelcome one. Besides, for getting rid of the scourge of his wardrobe and interior decorating scheme, Seishirou felt he deserved to indulge himself a bit.

 _I will be waiting for your reply._


	2. Chapter 2

After two weeks of waiting and seeing his wardrobe slowly fill up with 'lighter tones' (he admitted he did not look as poorly in them as he had expected, only it was a matter of _principle_ and besides, he felt one simply did not go around killing people dressed in the kind of outfits Hokuto approved of), he borrowed a pen from someone and scribbled on the back of a receipt:

_Dear Subaru-kun,_

_are you ignoring me?_

before realizing the person he'd borrowed the pen from was, in fact, the person he'd come here to kill and was even now waiting for him from a polite distance, pretending to neither be impatient to get to his eight o'clock meeting (which he could not afford to be late for, Seishirou knew) nor the least bit curious as to what Seishirou might have needed a pen for so urgently.

It was, he told himself, only a pen.

"One moment, please."

_Dear Subaru-kun,_

_if someone you were supposed to kill that night lended you a pen, what would be an appropriate way of saying ' thank you'?_

"Might you have a piece of paper for me?"

_Dear Subaru-kun,_

_why would I ask you about an appropriate way of saying 'thank you' to someone you're supposed to kill, when I'm quite certain you possess neither experience nor knowledge regarding such things? Mind, this is not to say I would completely disregard any reply you might see fit to send me - merely an observation on my part._

_Incidentally, he's also lended me a piece of paper by now._

Not perfect, but there you had it: if you got caught without any paper or writing utensils on you, one had to make do.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Seishirou managed a polite smile and quickly left the restaurant, giving the three notes to his shikigami to deliver, before he forgot or (not unlikely) changed his mind about sending them.

*

Naturally, the idea that Subaru might, in fact, be ignoring him was ridiculous. Seishirou might never have told him he loved him (he could have done so easily; it would hardly be the first lie he'd told Subaru) but he'd never told Subaru he _didn't_ love him either. Not recently, at any rate, Seishirou didn't think so. Which meant Subaru should be assuming the obvious - that Seishirou _did_ love him.

Which meant Subaru should be falling all over himself to be helpful to Seishirou and _write back_. Really, it was the least Subaru could do.

Granted, Subaru's job probably kept him fairly busy. Now that Seishirou thought about it, back when he and Subaru had been officially dating - they were still dating now, of course, just not officially, more in the sense that Seishirou would sometimes inexplicably and coincidentally find himself running into Subaru, but anyway, even when Subaru'd been given a time and a place, he would occasionally run late. And that had been when he'd been younger, and trusted with fewer responsibilities. And when he'd had Hokuto to talk some backbone into him.

Seishirou frowned. It had not occured to him that Subaru might simply be unable to write back.

Clearly, something needed to be done.

Clearly - and here Seishirou blinked, as the perfect solution to both his and Subaru's problem presented itself to him in a dazzling vision of utter brilliance.

If he helped out Subaru, gave the poor boy some breathing room from his job, a chance to actually have a life and run into Seishirou in unexpected places without needing to rush off straight away to some urgent appointment on the other side of town, then Subaru'd be quite definitely in his debt.

Sufficiently so, surely, to be persuaded to take care of Seishirou's problem.

The one thing that remained then would be to determine how best to go about diminishing Subaru's workload. Seishirou felt confident such would not prove too difficult.

His good mood lasted even when they delivered the sewing machine.

*

The price of a good sewing machine was, Seishirou reflected, quite staggering. He'd never realized although, possessing the knowledge now, there did not seem to be much he could do about it.

"My dear Hokuto-chan, I wondered if I might ask your help."

He wondered how she'd placed the order, but he did not think she'd be quite gullible enough to tell him. He'd mistaken her for Subaru once; he would not do so again.

"Don't worry, Sei-chan - I can tell you _exactly_ how to go about winning Subaru's heart."

Killing Subaru's sister, Seishirou mused, was probably not part of the masterplan. Still, he was willing to let that go by unsaid. Hokuto seemed eager enough to do so, and who was he to deny her?

"Actually, that's not what I wished your help for. That is to say," he amended quickly, "my request concerns Subaru, of course, but it's not his heart I'm concerned about right now." Or ever. "Rather, it's his health. He never seems to have any spare time at all."

"I know. It's very unfair. How can he ever go out on a proper date if people are constantly calling him to help them? Really, Sei-chan, he's just too kind-hearted for his own good."

"I know."

"On the other hand, it must be terrible to be stuck here as a ghost and not be able to move on."

"Quite." If he'd ever played poker, Seishirou'd have been very good at it.

"So I don't know how you could help him, Sei-chan. Unless ... "

"Unless?"

And she told him.

*

_Dear Subaru-kun,_

_it wounds me deeply that you continue to not answer my letters. Still, if you wish to pretend your feelings for me have faded, so be it. My own feelings for you remain as ever._ Non-existent, in other words, but Seishirou felt the turn of phrase was rather elegant and clever.

" - and then she - hey, are you listening to me?"

"Not really. I got the general gist of it about - " he checked his watch " - two hours ago. Your life was miserable, short and pointless, and for some unfathomable reason, instead of admitting the problem was with yourself, you chose to blame it on your girlfriend."

" _Former_ girlfriend."

"Former girlfriend," Seishirou allowed. "Whom you then attempted to haunt, except that she's moved to a new address and so you've been unable to find her."

"Bitch."

"At which point, instead of doing the sensible, logical thing and giving up, you simply began to haunt her former apartment instead. Now, I ask you, is that a reasonable course of action?"

_It may interest you to learn I have recently taken up a new hobby._

"If I give you her name, will you find her and bring her here?"

"No."

"Why not? What kind of exorcist are you, anyway? I was expecting some cute kid. Someone who'd actually listen to me."

"Obviously, you were misinformed."

_In some small way, I hope that I may help ease the heavy burden resting on your fragile shoulders._

"You're really not going to look for her? So that she can talk to me and help me move on and everything?"

"I believe she's made it quite clear she has no desire to talk to you whatsoever. Your inability to take a hint is no reason for me to strain myself on your behalf."

"But I'm dead!"

"Exactly. I'm pleased to hear you've at last grasped the reality of the situation. You're dead, she's not. She's got a life, you don't. Glad we had this chat."

"I loved her. I really did."

_Perhaps we could meet for coffee some time? My treat, of course, as I know your job pays rather poorly - you should do something about that one of these days._

"Clearly, she did not return your feelings."

"No," the ghost sighed, fading slowly.

(As he arrived downstairs, he found the new inhabitants of the apartment drinking coffee with a young woman who was, she told him, the apartment's former inhabitant. She had come, she continued to tell him, because she'd heard the ghost of her former boyfriend was haunting the place and she'd like to see him one last time to assure him of her love and implore him to move on. Seishirou regretfully informed her she'd come too late.)


End file.
